Equivalent Exchange
by Nikoru-chan
Summary: Tim tries something a little different in his attempts to bring Connor back to life. The consequences are potentially catastrophic, but for whom? Chapter five uploaded.
1. Chapter 1

Equivalent Exchange

By Nchan.

Ok. I tried to resist the plot bunny. I really, really did. Justified it with platitudes like 'I should be working on TBGE if I'm going to take time off from study to write' or 'c'mon, I shouldn't be an idiot about this, I should wait until I've seen more than the first DVD of the series and read a patchy few of the tankoubon'. But somehow, once bitten, this particular rabid little beastie of a rabbit wouldn't let me go. So here it is; unproof-read and sent out into the wild wooly web. And now I go to bed.

Disclaimer: For once, absolutely _all_ of the characters portrayed herein do not belong to me. They belong to various combinations and variations of DC comics, AOL Time Warner, Hiromu Arakawa, VIZ comics and whomever else.

Further note: I have seen a grand total of the first four episodes of FMA, and read volumes 2-4 and 7 of VIZ's translations. This forms the sum total of my knowledge and I'm already a hopeless addict. Doubtless I will cringe when I re-read this in the future when I know more of the story.

Further note two: in Teen Titans (comic canon) timescale this takes place in the post-52 series, after the incident involving the gorilla, the brain and That Kiss.

He couldn't understand it. He'd failed again. The tissue, unstable at best, had lasted less than twenty-four hours this time. //Worse than my last two efforts! Using the gorilla's data hasn't helped at all!// Simmering frustration made him want to smash his fist against the tank containing his latest failure; iron-clad discipline forbade it. He'd slipped once before in anger, to his detriment and that of others; the crashing shatter of Perspex so relieving to his rage then, had brought Wondergirl down to the basement to investigate. // And to kiss. And that should never, ever, have happened!//

Guilt sent him back to his workbench, to tirelessly continue his labours. Somewhere, somehow, there had to be a way to bring back his best friend, to re-clone Superboy.

Resolutely, he ignored the niggling doubt, so transparently obvious that it had been the first thing even Wondergirl had commented on on discovering what he was attempting to do. _Just because you make a clone of him, it won't be the real him. It won't be his soul. _

His mouth thinned, grimness tugging at the sides of it. He hadn't told Cassie all of the truth, hadn't told her the fullness of his hopes; it was too early, his first plan too embryonic, and frankly a little too horrific, to try without assessing all other options. Though he was running through those other options with marked alacrity and depressing lack of success; his enquiries into the potential of a magical resurrection had proven a further dead end only a few days earlier; neither Zatanna nor Zatarra had powers that were compatible with what he needed to do. In fact, as far as research had taken him, he'd come back to his original plan.

To get Superboy back. That was the goal. But it was more subtle than what he'd confessed to the blonde girl now accidentally burdened with his secrets. She thought he meant a mere clone. A copy, 'trained' to be like their Connor.

But to Robin, that was merely the tip. He needed to create a stable body. One that would last Superboy for the term of a lifetime, however many years that would be.

Then he needed to get back his best friend's soul.

He'd figured out how to do it, too. The battle with the resurrected Brother Blood had given him a couple of useful pointers and while he was pretty sure that Kid Eternity wouldn't be interested in opening the gate for him, he was fairly willing to bet that Raven could broach the issue with a little more success.

Provided, of course, he could convince her to do so.

Assuming, naturally, that the Titans ever actually managed to find her.

As to how to get Connor's soul to actually reside within his newly minted (and as-yet hypothetical) body, well, he had a couple of ideas on that score, too.

//But it's all a moot point unless I can create the bloody thing!// His determination and open-mindedness (flavored with a hint of desperation) had lead him down more avenues than his rigorously scientific mentor would likely have approved. //But, Bruce, pure science has failed me.//

Pure magic, he knew, was beyond his means without some fairly substantial help. //And after my investigations, I kinda get why Bruce hates it so much. The talking backwards thing is a pain.// So now he had to try something different. Something in between. //And luckily, I think I found my 'something'.//

It had been simple happenstance that had led him back to the bookshelf of his own library. He'd been moving books back into Wayne manor. After a year, the sight of his father's substantial and eclectic library holdings no longer made him weep, though some of the volumes did still fill him with a despondent melancholy. Others now made him smile. One of these latter types had been a strange volume his father had given him when he was a child of five or six; a curio that the man had picked up on his travels in Europe, it was a textbook of sorts.

Though Tim had had little trouble deciphering it even at that tender age, he'd never thought to put what it offered into practice. After all, the principles were just based on the fantasies of medieval men obsessed with gold.

Weren't they?

But when the book had fallen open in his lap some ten years after he'd been given it, he was struck with the scholarly, textbook style of the prose. //There's no whimsy here. It's not a book just to entertain children. Whoever wrote this intended it as a serious teaching text.// That alone had rated a closer perusal and though the demands placed upon his time by vigilante-ing and rebuilding a super-team had limited his time substantially, he'd still read the book cover to cover, extrapolating from its theories.

He often wondered how his father had gotten hold of the text. It could have been something as mundane as a bookshop or estate sale, but somehow Robin doubted it. No particular reason, other than gut feeling. //But then, Dad had the standard of the Lost Roman Legion tucked into the hallway closet 'for safekeeping', so perhaps its not as impossible as you'd think that he'd be guardian for a book such as this.//

//And now I've nothing else to try. Nothing new, save this. Which may well be pure fantasy anyway.//

Feeling just a touch foolish though more hopeful than he'd care to admit, he began his preparations. The high-tech, costly lab equipment that liberally peppered his workspace in the basement of Titans Tower – both new and those few hand-me-downs from the JLA tower – had been shoved to one side; a large space cleared on the floor, chalk marks marring the smooth concrete.

The ingredients, unlike his usual scientific experimental materiel, had been remarkably simple to obtain. Carefully measuring them out, Robin began. Muttering, almost chanting to himself, he poured each completed sample into the middle of the floor.

"Water, thirty-five litres; Carbon, twenty kilograms; ammonia, four litres; lime, one-point-five kilograms; phosphorus, eight hundred grams; salt, 250 grams . . ."

To Be Continued?

Notes: the Lost Legion story happened in Robin canon some years ago. The ingredients above are exactly what all the Fullmetal Alchemist fans think they are.


	2. Chapter 2

Equivalent Exchange

Chapter II

By NChan

Disclaimer: It is a great source of ongoing disappointment to me that I do not own Robin, or indeed any of the DCU gang. That particular accolade belongs to AOL Time Warner. Likewise, I am not the storytelling genius who dreamed up Edward, Al and all their ilk. Those belong to Hiromu Arakawa, square-Enix and (I think) VIZ. At any rate, not me. I'm just playing with them, though it's a little too early to say if I can make good on my usual disclaimer promise of putting them back more or less where and how I found them.

Note: I still haven't seen more than four episodes of Fullmetal Alchemist nor read much further in the manga so I'm winging it a lot. On the plus side, this does mean that for those who've never encountered the series, this fic shouldn't be too mystifying and unaccessible.

Elsewhere.

"Once again you fail to understand! I'm not angry that you were unable to kill the Fullmetal Runt, I'm ticked off because you tried! He's our Human Sacrifice, you blithering idiot! Just how many humans who've survived human transmutation alchemy do you think we've got lying around?!"

"Bu-but. . ."

"Can I eat him? I'm hungry."

"Feh. He's so useless . . . go ahead!"

The screams were soothing to jangled nerves, though they ended far too soon; Gluttony was nothing if not a rapid eater when he was hungry. And he was always hungry. Lust sighed. Good help was so hard to find. No wonder she worked almost exclusively with her fellow Sins. Envy wouldn't be pleased about this either; she had a sneaking suspicion he enjoyed his games of tormenting the blond alchemist rather more than even he let on, and now that their minion – ex-minion – had badly injured the boy, it would be a while before he could indulge again.

The fact that the boy had attempted Human Transmutation made him a very, very attractive prize. The fact that he hadn't worked out exactly _why_ it was a forbidden art made him perfect. Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, was still under the impression that human transmutation was forbidden because of the experiment matter – humans. The subtle details, the finer points, hadn't yet declared themselves to him.

//With his little brother constantly with him, and his overriding quest to restore that boy to himself, I doubt he's noticed that his own soul-ties have stretched and weakened. If he has, he's probably just attributed it to his own guilt over his failed alchemical experiment all those years ago.// Envy smirked. It was just as well the boy hadn't yet thought of self Soul Transmutation, hadn't taken that final step despite the accident that had set him well on the road: one who performed human transmutation opened his soul. One who opened his soul, and could still perform alchemy, could move anywhere. Add to that Elric's ability to perform alchemy without a focus. . .

//And you'd have the perfect spy, amongst other things. Just as well the military haven't worked that out and made him try. I wonder if Edward will ever figure out that he's half way to immortality. Unlike his brother, his own soul is trapped neither in a suit of armor nor in a body, should he wish it otherwise.// It seemed unlikely; the only interest the alchemist had shown since his tragic first experimentation into human transmutation had been in 'getting back' his brothers human body and his own limbs. //If you ever learn to make a homunculus, boy, and put yourself in it, you truly will be immortal and unchanging.//

Lust shrugged. Fullmetal hadn't thought of it up until now, it seemed unlikely that would change while his brother remained a walking soul-bound suit of armor and the philosopher's stone a taunting dream. //And our plans are nearly at fruition anyway. The only thing that would shake up his soul-self, and put him back on that track would be another human-transmuting alchemist. Like calls to like, and all that.// She sniggered to herself. Fullmetal's little brother was, in a way, safer than his elder sibling would be if someone else transmuted a human and opened a soul-gap. //His soul's bound to that armor. It ain't goin' nowhere.// Edward lacked that assurance.

Still, it was unlikely to matter. The Sins had an information network that set Fuhrer-General Bradley's to shame, and there hadn't even been a hint of any human transmutation that was not their own efforts, and certainly no resurrection efforts.

//Which is what makes Fullmetal so unique. Nobody else in this world is like him. If that minion has permanently damaged him I'll…// Moodily, Lust stared at the bony remnants of said minion. //I'll not do very much to him anymore, I guess.//

Gluttony was thorough.

"Wipe your mouth after eating."

Titan's Tower

Tim hadn't been sure what would happen when all the ingredients were placed. Logically, he'd thought, not much. They'd still be inert, the power – alchemy – that would help him deconstruct, analyze, and reconstruct them into something else still had to be channeled. Logically, that would have to be the case. But he still surprised himself with the frission when the second-last ingredient landed unceremoniously on top of the pile. Telling himself it was just excitement, and not to get his hopes up, he knelt next to the intricate chalk diagram.

The enormity of his task, the desperation of his attempt, struck him. //The book says this is forbidden, impossible. Forbidden means I can't try and get one of the Magics to come. Even if Zatarra hadn't made it abundantly clear that he'd never come back to the Titans, I can't involve him in something like this. 'Impossible' is different. Impossible just means no one's done it yet.// His lips pushed into a grim line, Robin resolutely pushed away the thought that he would be no different.

If it worked, he'd be halfway there. He'd have a body for his best friend.

All that would remain would be the soul.

//Dammit, Kon, why couldn't you have a rebirth power like Donna! You're making me work bloody hard here!// Resolutely, he ignored his own growing excitement. This was all for his friend. The thrill of learning something new, of doing something challenging and utterly different was secondary, he told himself. Not a factor at all.

With a certain small flourish of ceremony, Robin placed the few strands of black hair, Kon's, salvaged from a prank haircut at the tower during happier days, on top of the pile.

It was time to begin. Robin blinked. Was that his imagination, or was there a silvery light flashing along one of the chalk runes?

Taking it as a good omen, he placed his hands, ungloved, on the circle. //I'll have to remember to clean up for fingerprints later.// He took a deep breath, channeled the feeling like the book said to, and released it. Deconstruct, analyze, reconstruct.

Nothing happened.

At first. Then . . .

The explosion shook the Tower, knocking Wondergirl into the wall and dumping Beastboy and Cyborg to the floor in front of the couch they had been sitting on. Rose, sprawled on the carpet, was the first to find her voice, "what the Hell was that!?"

"It came," Cyborg noted, internal and external sensors whirring, "From the basement. Is everyone okay?" A chorus of affirmatives and one 'I didn't know we had a basement' greeted him, and he stood, ready to plan a sortie to find out what had caused the ruckus//In other words, who attacked us!// when a soft gasp from Wondergirl sent his alarms ringing.

"Oh no! Robin! Where's Robin?!"

Horrified silence met her enquiry.

"Let's get down there, NOW!" Suiting action to thought, and form to cheetah, Beastboy barreled out of the room, a small troop of vigilantes hot on his heels.

The hazy, purple smoke oozing out of the basement steps was not encouraging, and Cyborg spent a precious few seconds ascertaining that it was not, in fact toxic, before allowing the team down the stairs. Seconds was all he had; Wondergirl looked ready to go through and not around, him.

Once below, they all paused. They had to.

The destruction seemed absolute. Lab equipment was smashed, materiel smeared along what was left of the walls and at places scorched into it. A few last, dying, flickers of broken power cords, wrenched alternately from their sockets or the devices they supplied, were sparking in the corners, casting an eerie glow over the scene. //It's a miracle the tower support beams held!//

Then his attention was distracted by a flicker of movement from a pile of what he had initially taken to be blistered equipment in the corner. "Robin?! ROBIN!"

To Be Continued.


	3. Chapter 3

**Equivalent Exchange**

Chapter III

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed (and shamelessly exploited) herein do not belong to me. All the hard work of developing backstories and motivations etc has been done by a very motley, and exceedingly talented, crew of people over the years. They own their creations (or at least, the companies they work for do), not me. The companies in question would be DC comics and Square-Enix productions. Don't bother suing me. I'm small fry, and the odds are borderline-good that I'll put everybody back where they belong when I'm done anyway.

Many heartfelt thanks to the readers who took the time to comment on both this and on the latest part of the Broken Glass Eulogy. While I've replied to you individually I still want to say collectively that you guys are the greatest! My apologies on keeping you waiting; certain aspects of Real Life have been bloody awful of late. (No, I won't bore you with the details). Apologies for the brevity of the chapter.

The figure in the corner stirred, whether in response to Cyborg's shout or some internal stimulus all its own was impossible to tell. Stretching, reaching and then finally coughing in the hazy dust that was beginning to settle in the aftermath of the explosion, it pulled itself semi-upright, tattered shreds of nomex-woven and bullet-proofed cape hanging in now-useless strips from bowed, bruised shoulders. The fabric had, it seemed, served its purpose admirably in protecting the vulnerable flesh beneath. Protected it, at least, from the explosion if not from whatever had wrought the concussive blast.

In a voice roughened by smoke, it – he - spoke. "Wh-what …? What happened?"

His voice recognition chips confirmed a match at the same time as his biomed scan of the boy indicated minor injuries only, so Cyborg grinned in relief as he replied; "That's what we were hoping you could tell us, Robin. Usually it's one of the metas that does the major structural damage."

"Hey! I resent that! Last time it was greek-god-given power-mediated mass destruction!"

"All that in one breath?" The wry comment from the one-eyed warrior merely inflamed the situation.

"Shut up! Who asked you?! Anyway, the time before it was Beastboy's elephant-transformation that. . ."

The impending argument, which boded poorly for the building's continued structural integrity, was cut short by Cyborg clamping a firm, metallic hand on both insulted parties.

"Enough! Now, Robin . . ." He turned back to the smaller vigilante. Said vigilante was staring at his team, mouth hanging slightly open in the most open expression of utter confusion Cyborg had ever seen. That alone immediately concerned him//Emotion from a Bat? Confusion from a Bat? Maybe he hit his head harder than my scan detected.//

". . .?" Robin croaked out, parched throat working almost soundlessly.

Kid Devil spoke then, his initial relief that a fellow team-mate was physically okay had been rapidly overtaken by the attention-diverting three way spat that had broken out in front of him. Now that that crisis was averted, his consideration returned to the initial subject. Detecting the tension emanating from his Cybernetic leader, he jumped to the erroneous conclusion that a fellow teen (i.e. Robin) was about to get a royal chewing-out (deserved or not) and promptly tried to lighten the situation.

"Hey! Short Stuff! What happened down here anyway?"

The effect was instantaneous. Confusion vanished, defensive rage replaced it, and Kid Devil had a mere instant to think //Uh-oh// before

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THEY'D NEED A TELESCOPE TO LOOK OVER A DOORSTEP!?!!"

"Wh-huh?" Robin had never, in the brief time Kid Devil had known him, lost his cool like that. A quick sideways glance at Wondergirl revealed equal levels of shock.

He never even saw the fist swinging towards his head, fuelled by a tantrum driven force.

It didn't matter.

The blow stopped millimeters from his face.

"Or-organic?! The arm . . . the arm is . . .not metal?"

"Ah, no, Rob. I think you musta hit your head in that blast. We normally leave the metal-limbs gig to Cyborg, dude."

"B-but, if I have my . . . Al? Al?! Where's Al?!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BROTHER!?!!!"


	4. Chapter 4

Equivalent Exchange

Chapter IV

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this fic belong to Other People. Not myself. These people include DC comics and Hiromu Arakawa. I am borrowing them for my own entertainment, and posting what I write in the hope that I can entertain others. Certainly, no profit is being made from this fic.

"Geez, Rob, chill! I didn't even know you had a brother, unless you mean Nightwing, and I sure wouldn't mess with him! I haven't even got a reason to go _near _him: You've got the psychopathic broody thing down pat for this team! We don't need another one!" Hands open placatingly, Kid Devil backed away. Whatever was going on had obviously got the Teen Wonder shaken, rattled and stirred. And to do that to a Bat . . . //Hang on, did he just give away Nightwing's secret identity? He must be more hurt than I thought.// A surreptitious glance to the side, and he saw equal concern spreading across Rose's face. In front of them, Robin fell to his knees and started frantically rummaging through the rubble around him.

"Where . . . Where is this place? How did I get here? What happened to Al? " Faster than Kid Devil would have thought possible, the vigilante across from him seemed to have – superficially, at least – regained some semblance of composure, though it was obvious his grip on it was tenuous at best. His own mind racing in panicked circles, Kid Devil opted to respond to the only question he could answer.

"Uh, dude, the same place as before the explosion? Titan's Tower? You know, big old hang-out on weekends, party place, get-away-from-mentors building?"

"Where's Al? I can't find him! AL! AL! ALPHONSE!!!" His distress rising, Robin staggered in a tottery gait towards the square of light that marked the steps to the rest of the tower. The explosion had shifted him to the far corner, past some faint chalk markings on the floor, and it seemed unlikely he'd make the distance.

"Robin, you're not making any sense!" Distressed, Wondergirl moved towards her friend, ready to support him, but not quite confident enough to touch this strange, confused Robin.

"W-Winry?! Why are you here?" Suddenly catching sight of Cyborg, he backed up slightly. "That's a _lot_ of Automail." He observed, mind obviously racing. Internally, it made Cyborg squirm slightly; while he was used to Robin thinking, examining and observing, he _wasn't_ used to the Boy Wonder being obvious about it. //Well, I'm supposed to be supervising this team, so I guess it's about time I started doing so.//

"Robin, what happened? That explosion-"

"What explo. . ." He trailed off as the emergency lighting finally kicked in, displaying Kid Devil in all his red-skinned, demon-tailed glory. "What _are_ you?!" He whispered, eyes widening. Kid Devil stepped back, getting that question from the public stung, but from a long-time Titan? And one who would dictate whether he could remain on that team? That hurt so badly it tugged his breath away.

"You're not a homunculus. A chimera perhaps? But you speak, and Tucker is dead. . . Did he make you before his murder?" Now it was Kid Devil's turn to squirm as his hurt settled: The fear from the public was almost preferable to this . . . inspection.

"Stop hassling him!" Rose growled, fingers twitching towards her scabbard. She was stopped by Cyborg's metallic palm on her shoulder. But he wasn't looking at her. His grim expression was fully focused on the tattered team member in front of him.

"Who are you? What have you done with Robin?" With sudden, shocking clarity, the rest of the Titans grasped the logic behind his questioning. This person in front of them, the individual wearing Robin's body with such poor balance and obvious disquiet . . . was not their friend and comrade. Had they known him longer, better – had he let them – they would have realized much sooner.

Robin's eyes narrowed, responding to the change in tone from confused and concerned to threatening. "That's what I should be asking you." He stepped forward, his toe next to a white chalk mark. The whiteness of it, next to the dull grey of the concrete, seemed to snag his attention. His mouth tightened in shock as his eyes frantically traced the half-obliterated design traced across the floor.

"What. . . what were you DOING!?!! You . . . You MORONS!" He gestured to the markings, "You stupid, crazy, idiotic. . ." Words seemed to fail him then, and both Ravager and Kid Devil found themselves backing away from the anguished fury that boiled and burned, emanating from the Gothamite in livid waves. "This 'Robin'? He was here with you? He tried this too?" Wondergirl gave a strangled sob. This strange person was talking about her friend in the past tense.

//I should have tried to stop him! I should have _made_ him stop! I should have stolen his research stuff, I should have told Cyborg, I should have . . . anything! I just didn't know he'd try . . . whatever it is that he _did_ try!//

"Cool it!" Cyborg snarled, "We don't know what Robin was working on down here! I didn't even realise he'd set up this subsidiary lab! For all we know, you came along and attacked him!" That seemed to give this new, different Robin pause.

"He was working by himself? For a project of this scope? That's bordering on suicidal! Whoever he lost . . . whatever drove him to this . . ." His mind seemed made up, then, and the glare he directed back at Cyborg was as fierce as the tall man's own. "I'm going to find my brother. Then he and I are going to track down what's left of this Robin character. And then, when I'm done smacking him upside the head, he's going to tell me everything he knows!"

"Uh, you may _be_ all that's left." Rose pointed out bluntly, as Wondergirl kept crying softly.

"Oh, I doubt that. Wherever he is now, he's still bound by equivalent exchange, and I don't see either a body or a monster lying around here."

Leaving Rose to digest that comment, he stepped forward to cross the room and leave . . .

And screamed as the residual alchemic energy trapped in Robin's transmutation circle, arcing up and through the foot he'd placed in the runes, lanced through every fibre of his being.


	5. Chapter 5

Equivalent Exchange 5

By Nchan

Disclamer: The characters portrayed herein do not belong to me. They belong to a combination of DC comics and Hiromu Arakawa. No profit is being generated by this piece of fanfiction, however writing it is making the fact that I am home, sick substantially more bearable.

Warning: spoilers for the TPB 'Titans Around The World'. While only referring to the story vaguely, this chapter of the fic weaves through, around and between in terms of DCU chronology. I have made some slight changes to cannon chronology, but only to assist the storytelling. There are no specific FMA spoilers in this part.

The charge did not dissipate. It circled, growing and growing//Like a feedback loop of some sort,// Cyborg noted as he hastily flung the startled members of his team back from the now incandescently-glowing Boy Wonder. //A positively re-inforcing looped circuit! With Robin as the transducer!//

He took a step, and another. The only way he'd be able to dampen the wildly coruscating energies would be to break that circuit, take out a link somewhere along the line. Somehow he had to get closer to the teen. He didn't know what the designs on the floor meant, and even if he had recognized their now irreparably smeared meaning, he would not have known which ones to wipe. They looked like the marks Brother Blood had used around the vat of human gore from which he'd raised Raven. //No, not the same. But similar. Which still doesn't help me work out which symbol to erase to end this surge, or which line, when removed, will . . . dunno . . . summon Trigon or something.// But Robin, now that was an obvious choice. //Gotta get him out of there before he fries!//

As it was, Wonder Girl beat him to it. The Titan's Tower ceilings were typically high and domelike, and even a semi-finished basement proved no exception; looping down from above with the grace of a creature born to fly, she wrapped her arms around Robin, holding him close and tearing him from the circle. The sparking energy died as the slight figure of her friend slumped forward in her grasp.

Carefully, she landed well away from the residual circle. She'd always known he was compact, but never had he seemed so small and frail.

"Robin? Robin, please, please, Robin . . . say something, tell me you're okay," She begged, her fingernail grip on composure slipping away as the vigilante slumped across her lap remained as limp as a rag doll. Rose picked her way across the debris towards the pair, but not even her presence could raise Cassie's ire enough to pull her from her panic.

"Here, let me check him," Ravager offered with an arm outstretched, explaining away her very genuine concern with a brusque "Nightwing will kill me if I let anything happen to him." She reached for flaccid, gloved fingers only to be rebuffed by a faint, raspy voice.

"There's no need, Rose." Wearily, Robin lifted his head. "I'm . . . well, if not okay, at least alive." He looked himself over then, the faintest of surprise ghosting across his features. "All limbs intact? It seems strange the Gatekeeper did not take a toll," he muttered to himself, shuddering slightly as he folded in on himself, arms wrapping around his own shoulders. "Oh. Right. Not all prices paid are visible."

"Robin," authority and concern warred in his voice as Cyborg scanned the teenager in front of him once more. "What happened? What were you trying to do down here? Who was that . . . other?" Once again, his bioscanners indicated no injuries //But after what happened before, I think I'll have the Twins give them an overhaul before I trust them fully, especially when Robin's mumbling about invisible injuries.//

Slightly shakily, Robin stood up, dusting himself off with battered dignity. "In reverse order? That was . . . I'm not sure. I guess he's someone who understands." Cyborg noted that his teammate didn't attempt to define whether that meant 'ally' or 'foe'.

In front of him, the teenager he widely regarded as the most unpredictable of the Titan's Young Justice inheritance continued apace. "For the second question, none of your business, and the first enquiry? What happened was nature." As Cyborg's lips tightened, obviously unwilling to leave it there, Robin sighed and expanded.

"There are some things - certain principles of the world, of science, the immutable tenets of the universe - that are foolproof." At his nod of agreement, Robin continued bitterly. "I've just provided living evidence that Nature can create a better fool." Kid Devil looked startled at that; brilliant seventeen year old live-in twins or not, he had no illusions about who the Tower's real resident genius was.

"So you won't try it again?" Mostly relieved, but with a lacing of devastation, Wonder Girl let out a breath she hadn't even realised she'd been holding as she asked the question. Brows knitting, Cyborg opted to grill her for further information later. Despite her meta-abilities, her ambivalence towards this little project meant she'd be easier to question; whatever Robin had been doing, it was obviously dangerous, possibly ill-conceived, and definitely something important to the former YJ-ers.

And Robin, he noted, didn't answer her question.

Things grew busy for some time, then. Raven was found, Jericho restored, and Bombshell defeated. But Cyborg's disquiet remained, fed by his old friend's reaction to the current bearer of the Robin mantle.

Upon the Titan's reunion, Raven had been unnerved by Kid Devil's obviously demonic nature, unsettled by Miss Martian's cheery humour.

And frankly horrified by the sight of Robin. Oh, she'd controlled it promptly, schooling herself into her usual impassivity, but Cyborg had seen the reaction none-the-less. He asked her about it later, but the ebon-haired hero had been more than usually reticient.

"He has sinned," she said simply to his enquiries. "And there is a terrible, terrible price for that." Beyond that, she refused to be drawn. "I will help him all I can with _fixing_ it, but I cannot help him _with_ it or save him _from_ it." She seemed bent over with regret, then, hunched and somehow diminished and Cyborg hated seeing her that way. "We are very alike, Robin and I, but I realised that too late to teach him the means to avoid damning himself. With his thirst for knowledge, it might have been inevitable anyway." At Raven's obvious – for her – anguish at the topic, Cyborg had left it at that. He trusted her. She would tell him the details if – when – he needed them.

He hoped.

//At any rate,// He mused as Wonder Girl pulled Raven aside for one reason or another//It's hardly like Tim and Raven are all _that_ alike. For one thing, he wasn't born to be a demonic hybrid designed to facilitate world domination. From what Raven's saying, it just seems like he got himself in a little deep with the whole information-at-his-fingertips thing.//

Subconsciously, he ignored the fact that information alone doesn't usually result in Richter-five level explosions.

So instead they'd walked up to the main area, to share pizza and a movie with the rest of their misfit band of Titans. It was time for relaxation, for fun. The next day, Cyborg was going to take Miss Martian to interrogate Bombshell, but for tonight, it was time to bond. It had been a long year, there would be plenty to talk about.

Jericho and Rose came in from the garden as Beast Boy, Miss Martian and finally Robin dribbled in from wherever they'd been. They joined Cyborg in looking bemusedly at the large postal box Kid Devil was gleefully chortling over in the middle of the floor.

"Guys! Hey guys! Look! My internet order just came through! Hot damn!" little slips of flame dancing around his teeth to announce his excitement, Eddie rattled off his order. "The Blue Devil movie – we're so gonna watch that tonight! – every magazine with a Blue Devil interview, and a couple of framed stills from the film! Megan, you're gonna love this film, it's a classic!" Robin stopped him before he could tear open the package.

Running a device he pulled from his utility belt over it, he turned to Cyborg and Raven.

"I make it clean of explosives and bio-toxins. You want to do the honors for nanotechnology and curses?" Behind him, Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Rob, it's a post parcel. Not some anonymous thing left on the doorstep." Nonetheless, he stepped to the side as Vic and Raven gave it the once over, and their approval.

Indulgently, Rose sliced through the thick packing tape to enable her excited friend to open his acquisition.

Squeals of delight turned to moans of dismay.

"What the? These are trashy old society magazines!" Kid Devil wailed as he dug deeper through the box. "Aw, Hell." Dispiritedly, he tossed one over to Rose. "Flip through that and look for a Blue Devil interview for me? There's gotta be something worthwhile here. Teach me not to go through a memorabilia dealer." Muttering to himself he dug deeper as Rose, affecting a prim-and-proper accent, picked through highlights of the magazine. Curious, Miss Martian grabbed another.

"Cheer up, Eddie," Rose giggled, "At least this way you can read all about the scandalous behaviour of a 'prominent Gotham family's son and heir'. . . twenty years ago."

"What, playboy Wayne again? Boring."

"Nah, this one's some mid-level business type's kid who went and got an Archaeology degree before 'running off to the wild ends of the world' and coming back with a wife. Unapproved of by his family of course. She was quite a wild child, according to this magazine, and 'a foreign woman'." She snickered. "Doesn't say what 'foreign' means, though. Europe?"

"And this one," piped up Megan, who'd picked up how to read in the few seconds she'd scanned Bombshell's brain. "This one's a couple years later. Seems the same woman 'single-handedly introduced a mania for tattoos to the upper echelons of society after she was snapped holidaymaking at Ibiza with one low on her abdomen' Though," She nodded towards Raven, "Most people seem to get them on their lower backs. Doesn't seem she was too happy about it being photographed, though." She turned the magazine on the table so that everyone could look at the slightly grainy shot. Behind Wonder Girl, Robin stilled suddenly. His fingers deftly lifted the magazine from the table, examining it closely.

Cassie didn't notice as she reached for yet another of the magazines.

"Well," She pointed out, skimming an article. "It seems that the Greene family should have given their son less grief about his choice after all; the woman single-handedly rejuvenated the Research and Development section of their corporation. This one's dated five years later, and the family's become much more prominent, even giving Waynetech a run for their money."

Not to be outdone in the fun, Eddie finally joined in, despite his earlier dismay. "This one says that 'others have cast some rather snide aspersions about the baby's parentage, however it is clear that the child is healthy and loved'. How's that for a snobby phrase saying 'yeah, we think the baby doesn't look like the mother or the father either' when this couple finally got around to popping offspring."

"Tough luck, Eddie," Gar nodded ruefully, relieved to see the younger teen taking the disappointment of the incorrect package so well. "Rather than Blue Devil, it looks like you got a box deal on articles about this Janet socialite instead." Picking up one of them, he joined in the fun. "Hey, seems that the company, and the two of them, took _her_ name when their son was born, giving him his father's name as a middle initial . . ." he sucked in his breath suddenly.

"That's unusual among humans, isn't it?" Miss Martian asked, brow creasing with thought. "The couple taking the woman's name? Gar, what's wrong?"

"I, uh. . . nothing." Unperturbed, Kid Devil hefted the magazine from Beast Boy's suddenly lax hands.

"The woman changed the family name to 'Drake'." Eddie read. "And 'there are some questions as to for whom the baby was called 'Timothy' when his father's name is Jackson.' " He shook the paper, blissfully ignoring the sudden silence. "Still, this Janet seems like she's pretty cool, no matter what the gossip rags say. Oh, look. She died young. Murdered, huh. I guess that's one way to make sure your biography is interesti. . ." he trailed off, looking up.

Around him, all his fellow titans, with the exception of Joey (who was watching his sister), were staring at the spot where Robin had been. Their expressions ranged from discomfort to near panic, and Eddie felt his own unease rise.

The Boy Wonder had gone so silently that no one had even noticed when he'd left.

A few minutes later, they realised the magazine with the Ibiza photo was missing as well.

It was Joey, he who barely knew the teen, who found him. Robin was on the rooftop, well away from the basement lab and his room, and even the general-purpose lab, where, by unspoken assent, everyone had split to search after his disappearance, Eddie still not quite sure why he'd gone.

Robin was on the roof, because birds like to see the sky when they think, when their world has been turned upside down. And he was upset enough to allow Joey to get close to him.

"That . . . that mark . . ." His gloved fingers closed on the grainy photo showing an Ibiza beach, and a young, bikini clad Janet. Bringing the photo close, he examined it minutely. "Is. . . is that . . . tattoo . . .?"

Looking up, naked fear apparent in every line of his body despite the eye-concealing mask, Robin had never seemed so young, nor so vulnerable.

"The tattoo . . .it can't be what I think it is. Can it?"

TBC.

C+C greatly appreciated.

In this version, Eddie does not yet know Tim's secret ID, as I've not quite been able to figure out from the comics whether he does or doesn't, yet.


End file.
